Don't Enrage the Barista
by TwoDaysTooLate
Summary: Or "Why you should never read Tumblr AU prompts" {a story in four parts}
1. Chapter 1

During one of my recent forays to the ever enticing blackhole that is Tumblr, I came across a beautiful post entitles, "AUs for when your OTP are both a-holes" and I _had_ to utilize it for our resident genius couple (Let's be real, they are terrible).

Today's installment is based on the prompt: I'm a barista and you're the obnoxious customer who comes through and orders a venti macchiato while talking on the phone the whole time so I misspell your name in increasingly creative ways every day AU

Enjoy! ^_^

* * *

"Vortex, what are you still doing here?"

Cindy looked up, pushing her long bangs out of her eyes. "Nice to see you too Maria. I'm restocking the fridge, why do you ask?"

Her coworker put one hand on her hip, "I come back from maternity leave to find your big-shot lawyer self is still working the espresso machine. What is the world coming too?"

Cindy chuckled as she put the last carton of whipping cream on the shelf. She had taken a part-time job at the local coffee house in college for some extra spending money. Her mother offered her extra cash all the time but Cindy would rather earn it herself with no strings attached, even if it meant less sleep. She had been offered a job at Johnson, Johnson, Abernathy, and Cohen law firm as soon as she'd passed the bar, but it was hard to cut ties with the familiar job, even if it meant even less sleep. Her roommate Libby had been all over her to quit now that she made enough money to pay the entire rent, but Cindy couldn't bring herself to do it yet.

She stood up, "Well Bill still has strep throat and doesn't feel up to training someone new. Besides, I still have loan payments to make for my big-shot law school. I need this paycheck for essentials like food and aspirin."

Maria swatted her arm, "Come on, you love that job. You were born to stare someone down in a court room." They walked back into the storefront to open shop.

"Well right now all they have me doing is working with the intellectual property attorneys. We have a big contract on Friday with this- hey wait a minute!" She turned to face the older woman, "What are you doing back so soon? Don't you have like _a baby_ to take care of?"

Maria refilled the sugar canister without looking up. "My mother's in town watching her. We've got to pay for diapers somehow and tax season isn't for another six months, so I figured I would stick around. Besides, you get to see so many, um, _interesting_ people at this job."

As soon as the door was unlocked at six, a line started forming at the counter.

Cindy tried to keep the smile on her face, even though she had been there since five-thirty and would have to leave and change for work at eight. The sleepy-eyed customers in soft sweaters and flannel shirts who were trying to escape the Connecticut wind always put her in a better mood. One of the things she loved about moving away from Texas was that she actually got an autumn. Texas was just too hot, too dry. There were really only two seasons: hot summer and really hot summer. Her first winter at Yale was the first time she'd seen snow, and now she dreaded the freezing slush that came earlier and earlier each year; but she did love the cool and crisp New England autumn. It made people watching much more enjoyable. She smiled to herself as man in a navy blue suit and a head of wind-swept hair marched up to her.

"Welcome to Moonbeams Coffee, how may I-"

"I want a large macchiato with two shots of espresso. Don't skimp on them either, I can tell when there's just one." His curt demand was delivered with a deep voice. She had dealt with her fair share of rude customers plenty of times before, but for some reason this guy seemed to instantly get under her skin.

"Alright sir: one venti macchiato with-"

"No not venti, **large** ** _._** Venti means twenty while grande means large."

She stifled a groan, "I'm aware of the nomenclature sir, that's just the way the company labels the sizes. I'm required to call them by their correct names."

He crossed his arms, "Well, those names aren't correct. If you're going to label these you should at least do it in a way that makes sense."

She was in no mood to argue with this guy, especially when she couldn't say what she really wanted without getting fired. Instead, she clenched her teeth and entered the order into the cash register. "Fine, one **large** macchiato with **two** shots of espresso. Would you like whipped cream on that?"

He gave her a withering stare. She flexed her toes, desperately holding back the string of insults on the tip of her tongue. "No whipped cream. That comes to-"

A rhythmic tone echoed from his pocket and _of course_ he pulled out the phone. "What is it Simmons? No I'm on my way now. Well maybe of you had…"

She rolled her eyes when he turned to yell angrily into the high-tech looking phone. "Sir?"

He tossed his credit card at her and walked to stand by the napkin dispenser at the receiving area.

Cindy wanted to scream. She still had thirty more minutes before she could punch the pillows in the break room, so she had to find a better way to vent her rage. She swiped the card and unfortunately it went through (nothing would have given her more satisfaction than to tell Mr. Bigshot that his card was declined). She stared down at the black credit card with the atom insignia in the front, to the name at the bottom: _James I Neutron_. A smiled spread over her face as she grabbed a cup and the black marker.

A few minutes later, she handed the hot beverage to the man who now had the never to text with one hand outstretched to receive the cup.

"Here's your credit card and receipt sir!"

He finally looked up. He took a sip as if to test that she actually got the order correct. He seemed satisfied and deigned to nod his head in acknowledgement. He was just turning to walk away when he finally seemed to notice the bold word scrawled on the side of the cup: **Nerdtron.**

A smile spread over Cindy's face, "Have a nice day!"

* * *

"Ok, maybe it was a little juvenile, but that guy was a major jackass! You don't take a phone call in the checkout line, it's just common decency." Cindy pulled off her work polo and grabbed her blouse from over the stall. One thing she wouldn't miss when she finally quit was hurriedly trying to get changed in the employee bathroom.

"I don't know Cin, that guy kinda sounds like a garden variety rude. We've had much **much** worse. Remember when that lady dumped her entire iced coffee on the counter to "prove" it only had three ice cubes? There's someone every week who complains about the drink sizes, why did this one guy bother you so much?"

Cindy pulled on her blazer and inspected herself in the mirror. She still felt like a kid playing dress-up whenever she put on professional attire, but at least it looked the part. "I don't know: he just bugged me. I wrote it messy enough that it could have looked like his name. I just needed to get the anger out." She was about to reapply lipstick when she glanced over, "Why are you pumping breast milk in the bathroom?"

"This is the only place they'll let me do it! And I'm about to burst. I'm going home at ten anyways, Jane will be ready for something to eat."

"And here I though you were just being a good friend," she shook her head sarcastically.

"Oh, you'll be fine. By tomorrow you'll forget all about Mr. Neutron."

* * *

Little did Cindy know just how wrong Maria could be. At seven thirty on the dot, Mr. Neutron strolled through the door. Unfortunately for Cindy, there were no other customers in line at that moment, so he strolled directly up to the counter.

She forced a smile and recited to compulsory, "Welcome to Moonbeams Coffee, how may I help you?"

He glanced up and down, as if attempting to remember if she had been there yesterday. "Yes, I would like a **large** macchiato with two shots of espresso. And don't-"

"I will make sure there are two shots of espresso sir." She tried to tell herself that it was just a coincidence that he had returned. She had never seen him before yesterday. "Would you like whipped cream on that?"

His face dripped with condescension. "Do I look like I want whipped cream on my coffee?"

She formed a large fake smile, "I wouldn't know sir. It's not really my job to guess whether or not someone wants whipped cream based on their appearance." She gave Neutron the once-over. He was wearing what appeared to be the exact same blue suit as yesterday. His hair was in the similar disheveled state and seemed out of place with the rest of his imppeccable appearance. She hated to admit it, but he was somewhat attractive, in a nerdy "my head is too big for my body" kind of way.

"Well I didn't ask for it yesterday, why would I want it today?"

"It's also not my job to remember a random customer's order from a previous day. Sometimes people order different things." She knew she was entering into rude territory, but Cindy didn't care anymore. This guy seemed to be intentionally antagonizing her.

He let out a mirthless laugh, "And what is your job? Oh yeah, pouring liquid into a cup. One would think you would _enjoy_ the mental stimulation."

She glared at this Neutron guy. "One **venti** macchiato with two shots of espresso. That will be $4.65, with tax comes to-" he tossed the credit card on the counter and walked off.

Cindy couldn't believe it. A line had formed behind him during all the bickering and now she had to deal with the drink _and_ getting his stupid card back to him. She grabbed the fat black marker and wrote **Spewtron** in clear letters on the side of the cup. There would be no mistaking it this time.

* * *

The rest of the week consisted of Mr. Nerdtron stomping in everyday in a huff at seven thirty precisely. No one was ever happy when their name was spelled incorrectly on their over-priced coffee, but he seemed to be taking it very personally. Fortunately for Cindy, she wanted him to take it personally. She found new ways to deconstruct Neutron and insult him, all the while watching his skin crawl. For someone who was clearly important, he sure was easy to annoy. She knew this was foolish, but there was a sick sort of pleasure that came from it. Besides, it was character building to have your feathers ruffled.

When Friday rolled around, Neutron appeared to have had enough. The first sign was when he came in fifteen minutes later that usual. He marched up to the counter, the usual bravado making him appear more arrogant than usual.

"Welcome to Moonbeams Coffee. Let me guess? You want to try one of our spiced pumpkin lattes?"

The sarcasm was lost on him. "No, I want a-"

"Large macchiato with two shots of espresso," they said at the same time.

"Oh, so you _are_ capable of remembering things. Isn't it fun to use those gray cells?"

She choked back the bile rising in her throat as she entered the order. She told him the total and he actually handed her his credit card and waited while she swiped it. She handed it back, and could sense he was waiting for her to pick up the cup.

"That's Neutron."

"Sorry?"

"Neutron: N-E-U-"

"I am fully aware how to spell that, sir. I _did_ take some science classes in my day."

"Yes, well you haven't been able to spell it correctly all week so I just assumed you needed a reminder."

She set down the marker and looked directly into his piercing blue eyes. "Did it occur to you, Mr. Neutron, that maybe servers purposely misspell people's names as revenge for customers acting rude?"

He rolled his eyes, "Did it ever occur to you-" he glanced at her nametag, "Cindy- that I'm a very busy man and I don't have time for idle pleasantries. My time is very important."

"As opposed to the rest of us mere mortals who just who are as expendable as grains of sand?"

He groaned, "Look, I just want you to spell my name correctly, is that so hard?"

She crossed her arms, "And I just want you to not talk on your phone while I'm taking your order, _is that so hard?_ "

His expression changed to one of a steely demeanor that was clearly used to intimidate people, "I could have you fired." Unfortunately for him, it was going to take more than that to intimidate Cindy Vortex.

She raised one eyebrow and leaned in close enough to see his faint freckles, "I'd like to see you try."

He leaned back and reached a hand into his jacket pocket, "Ok, new tactic: I will give you one hundred dollars as a tip if you just spell Neutron correctly on that disposable paper cup. Deal?" he held up a crisp folded bill.

It was Cindy's turn to roll her eyes, "If you have so much money to burn, why don't you go ahead and put it in the jar for the animal shelter?"

He bristled "It's the principle of the matter."

"Good, then you understand why I won't take your bribe."

His face revealed for a fraction of a second that he was impressed by her refusal to take the money. But he immediately switches back to a look of annoyance and shoves the bill into the small jar.

She smiled and picked up the cup and marker.

He inhales before sighing loudly, "Fine, enjoy your little joke. In two hours that cup will be in the trash and I will still be making more money than you could ever dream of."

She was growing impatient, "Your drink will be ready in a few minutes Mr. Neutron. Please move to the side."

"You know, maybe if you got a real job you could put your talents to work for other things beside torturing customers."

Rage welled up inside her as she prepared the drink, her fingers so tight on the mixer that her knuckles turned white.

"Do you even know who I am? I'm the CEO of Neutrotech, the number one company **in the world** for developing new technologies. I patented more inventions by the age of eighteen than you have sold decaf and if you think-"

Realization dawned on Cindy as he went on his tangent about how important he is blah blah blah. She put on the lid and looked directly at him. He stopped ranting and looked at her. "Mr. Neutron, do you know what I am?"

He continued to stare.

She waited for the hour hand to reach the eight. "Off the clock." She held out the cup and smiled, "Have a nice day."

* * *

Jimmy couldn't believe it. This had to be one of the works days of his life… since high school anyway. Not only was he late for the big meeting for the newest software contract, but he had to sit there with a coffee cup that read **King Cranium**. That stupid barista just _had_ to make his life difficult. Who does she think she is? It's not like he hadn't spent the better part of his life being made fun of, but now he was an important man, a _wealthy_ important man. There weren't many problems he couldn't throw money at to make go away. But no, she just had to disrupt his already stressful life with her rude demeanor, impertinent smile and bright green eyes that saw through all his façade. He knew that he had been rude. If his parents knew that he had spoken to a service worker the way people had spoken to them for so many years- no, it wasn't his fault. He was a busy man and _just who does she think she is_?

He finally made it to the conference room where his assistant was waiting outside.

"Ah you're here. The patent lawyer is already inside going over the documents."

"I heard out attorney was sent by the partners themselves?"

The PA nodded, "They say she's some sort of wiz kid- passed the bar at 22 and has already made a name for herself at the firm. Should be a partner within the next five years. We couldn't have asked for better."

"Finally, some good news. Lets get started."

His good mood left the second he walked through the door. The lawyer sat at the center of the long wooden table with her head bent over a stack of folders. The familiar blond ponytail had been pulled into a bun and her teal shirt had been replaced with a green blouse with a gray blazer, but he didn't need a nametag to know who this was. He felt all the blood drain from his face.

She raised her head to reveal a wide smirk. "Hello Mr. Neutron, I'm Cynthia Vortex. Let's talk industrial design rights."


	2. Chapter 2

**I had originally intended for this story to be a one-shot, but it was so well received that I'm making it a three-parter.**

 **(That's right readers, you made it happen! Now if you want to donate to my P** **atreon... no no, another time) If you live in the south or have ever had the misfortune or eating at a Bojangles, you know all that is mentioned in the following passage. I personally hate sweet tea with a burning passions previous only reserved for people who abuse dogs and Michael Bay, and that may or may not be reflected.**

 **Enjoy ^_^**

* * *

Jimmy spent the majority of the meeting tapping his foot nervously under the table. The blond lawyer seemed to be totally at ease explaining the steps they would need to take to get a patent on the new series of machinery. It almost seemed as though she wasn't aware that he was the same person that the got in a fight over a coffee cup not two hours earlier. She had to though; every so often she flashed him a smirk that implied she was going to make him even more miserable by the end of the day.

When the meeting was mercifully finished, he waited for the rest of his team to clear out of the room.

The lawyer was packing papers into her bag when he wandered over. She looked up expectantly, "Do you have a question about the policy Mr. Neutron?"

He shifted nervously. "Um, no. I just wanted to-"

"What? Lecture me about the correct titles of copyright laws? Or maybe talk about how I should, how did you so eloquently put it? 'Get a real job?'" She stood up to look him directly in the eyes. In the high heels she had donned since this morning she as now a good inch taller than him. The effects made her fierce glare more intimidating.

His stomach lurched. "Ok, I didn't-"

"As much as I would love to watch you shove your foot further into your mouth, I need to be going." She slung the large bag over her shoulder and walked towards the door.

He panicked. "Look, can we discuss this over lunch?"

The clacking of her heels came to a stop.

"I just want to talk to you for a few minutes. The firm has so let you eat, doesn't it?"

She spun around, "I suppose I could stand to let you treat me to lunch."

"Wait, who said-"

"Come on, _James_ , it's not like you can't afford it."

This was the first time she had referred to him as anything other than Mr. Neutron, and she usually said that with so much sarcasm and condescension his own name felt like an insult. There was something about the way she purred out the monosyllable that made him contemplate another scenario where she might call it out. He chastised himself instantly for thinking like that. This woman clearly wanted his head on a stick, and he would do well not to get distracted.

"Fine, I know just the place."

A grin that would put the Cheshire cat to shame spread over her face. "After you, _sir_."

* * *

"Look, I apologize about what I said this morning. I was in a bad mood because I was running late and I took it out on you. I didn't mean to be so rude."

She ran her index finger over the spine of her bound menu. The moments seemed to drag by before she finally looked up. "I have to wonder whether you are apologizing because you acted like a first class ass, or because you discovered that I'm somebody important."

He didn't know how to respond. She continued, "You see: it just so happened that the universe handed me a trump card, but if I was just a barista who made minimum wage working the espresso machine, I would still deserve to be treated better than I have been this week. Because despite what you may think, that is a _real_ job."

"I know."

"And furthermore-" she paused, "what do you mean, _you know_?"

"I'm agreeing with you.

She raised an eyebrow, eyeing him suspiciously. "You've never worked in the food service industry, have you?"

He hesitated, "No, but you don't have to in order to understand that-"

Fortunately the waitress appeared at the table.

Cindy, er- Cynthia perused the tall menu before asking for iced tea. He asked for water and the small woman dissappred into the back.

The blond sitting across the table from him took the silence as an opportunity to glance around the establishment. After a moment of silent assessment, she let out a long slow whistle, "Wow, a greasy spoon. You sure know how to treat a lady."

Her voice dripped with sarcasm, and he suppressed the urge to respond back with the retort that he didn't see any ladies present. This woman had the capacity to make his life very miserable, and not just at work. Instead, he smiled and said, "Hey, I never promised you a _nice_ lunch."

To his surprise, he was rewarded with a small smile. She had yet to display anything other than the obviously fake smile at the coffee shop or the self-satisfied smirk in the boardroom. He rather liked the genuine amusement he had caused.

The waitress brought their drinks and pulled the memo pad out of the blue apron tied around her waist.

"I'll have a chicken salad sandwich with the house salad," Cindy smiled at the small woman.

"Ok, and the usual for you Mr. Neutron?"

"Hmm?"

She looked at him expectantly, "A club on white bread, lightly toasted."

"Oh, um sure. Thanks."

Cindy crossed her arms again, "You eat here often?"

"I come for lunch most weekdays because it's a five minute walk from my building."

"And you don't recognize the waitress?"

"She must be new."

"Her photo is on the front wall for employee of the month." The hostility had returned to her voice.

He passed the saltshaker back and forth, not sure exactly how to respond. How had he not noticed that? He had a photographic IQ and he couldn't remember his waitress' name. What was going on? And why did this bother him so much? Five days of having this blond spitfire in his life had made him feel guiltier about his tendency to be oblivious than he'd previously thought possible.

Cindy stuck a straw into her glass. Her face instantly clenched when she took a sip.

"Ugh, I always forget that it's not-" She glanced up gat him, "never mind."

"What?"

She sighed but continued to look away from him "I forget that the tea's not sweet." She shrugged sheepishly, "I grew up in Texas. This is like cold pond scum. Five years in Connecticut and I still forget to specify sweet tea."

"What?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's a guilty pleasure, forget I said anything."

"No, I'm from Texas."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're messing with me."

"No, I'm from a small town in Randall County, population 426. Well, 425 now. I think I'm the first person who ever left." He realized that he had shared a rare piece of personal information.

Her face lit up. "Really? I lived in a suburb of Austin, but my mom worked in the city, so I spent most of my time there."

"Oh, so what made you decide to move here?"

She pursed her lips before looking up at him. "It's not really an exciting tale. I got accepted into Yale. It wasn't a hard decision: I was bored out of my mind and wanted bigger things. And less gravy at every damn meal."

"But where else can you find the wonderful combination of chicken ad waffles?"

She glared, "Don't start."

"And then there's the wonderful world of chitlins," her balled up napkin hit him square in the face. "Alright, I'll stop."

* * *

"I don't believe this. Nobody at the firm mentioned that the great James Neutron hails from redneck central."

He shrugged, "I don't exactly broadcast that fact. Why bother with the past when the future has so much possibility."

"Uh-huh. Is that the tagline for your autobiography?"

"No!" He could feel himself flush.

She chuckled, "Well you just seemed to have that quote ready. One never knows."

"I don't know, it's true is it not?"

She cocked her head back, "Don't talk to me like that."

"What?"

"Like I'm one of your board members. I'm a lawyer, remember? I have to listen to people bs their way through nonsense all the time. You're not going to distract me with flowery language. If we're going to have a real conversation you need to talk to me like a real person."

He sat back in his chair. "I didn't realize I was doing that, sorry." And he meant it…sort of. He was an expert in avoiding awkward questions. After all, he didn't owe her some grand backstory.

That sat in an uncomfortable silence for a moment.

"Well, I suppose years of giving generic answers to reporters can warp your conversations skills, eh James?"

"Jimmy."

She looked taken aback, "Pardon?"

"I um, go by Jimmy in the non-professional circuit." He wasn't sure why he had graced her with usage of his name. He had just met this woman, and only his parents and close friends called him that. But he felt a strange kinship with her. So now there were four.

The table fell back to a comfortable amity. "And nothing says friendship like solicited legal advice."

"Well, hiring someone for five figures is the best icebreaker."

"Ah, but you forget how small a percentage actually goes to me."

"Not for long from what I hear. You're apparently worshipped by all in the building."

She beamed, "I'm really close to getting my name on the side of that building, but I might have to leave before that happens."

"How come?"

"My roommate is a personal assistant for a fashion designer. She wants to move to New York to jumpstart her own career."

"So what?'

"So she's my best friend, and she did move here to be with me. It's the least I could do. Besides, it's not like there would be no work there. I just really like where I'm at right now."

"Including making espressos for rich jerks every day?"

"I do have another napkin, you know."

He chuckled. "Would you move to New York if you didn't make partner?"

She shrugged. "I think the bigger question is how a guy from Podunk, Texas becomes a Forbes darling."

A wave of panic overtook him. Many people asked about his nefarious past, but usually were satisfied with a basic generalization of small-town life. He had a feeling that Cindy would not be placated with the brush off. He started to make a hasty distraction, when relief was provided in the form of her cell phone buzzing.

"Shoot, I need to get back to the office!" She wiped her mouth with a napkin and grabbed her bag. "To be continued."

"Wait, what?"

"Oh, don't think you can get away avoiding my question just because I have paperwork to go. Thanks for lunch."

"Yeah, sure. When do you plan on prying deeper into my private life?"

She stood up. "I don't know. I get off work at seven. What comes next is up to you."


	3. Chapter 3

Dee de dee! It is I, returning from the pit of despair (otherwise known as a new semester at school). I know you all are probably having a busy semester too, so what better time to have a new update?

* * *

Jimmy paced in front of the office building. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to make the trek to the law firm. It was ten minutes after seven and there was still no sign of Cindy. He began to think that this was a revenge scene and she was going to let him stand out here all night, when the front door opened and she finally appeared.

She didn't seem the least bit surprised to see him. An amused smile spread over her face, "Sorry to keep you waiting Mr. Neutron. I had to finish some paperwork."

"What? Oh you thought I was here to see you? No, I was just taking a walk through this fine neighborhood."

"Is that right?" her smile broadened, "So I suppose you wouldn't be interested in having dinner with me then?"

"Oh, I doubt even _you_ could manage to secure a table without a reservation on a Friday night."

She shrugged her large bag onto the ground. "Well I figured that a busy restaurant wouldn't be the ideal place to grill you on your enigmatic personal information. What would you say to getting some takeout and going back to my apartment?"

Her abruptness took him by surprise. The woman was direct, to say the least. "Why Miss Vortex, are you trying to seduce me?"

She stepped closer, her expression changed to sultry. "Oh Mr. Neutron, you'll know when I'm seducing you."

He chuckled uncomfortably, "Um, what?"

She burst out laughing. "Oh my gosh, _your face_!"

His brow furrowed, "You know. It's not wise to tease the person who you're working for."

She slung her bag over her shoulder, "Then it's a good thing I don't work for you. Looks like I'll have to bribe you with Thai food and the joy of my presence."

"An enticing offer to say the least," he said dryly.

* * *

She unlocked the door to the apartment and gestured for him to enter. Before Jimmy could make it entirely into the room, a large English bulldog, who let out a series of gruff barks, assaulted him.

"Whoa, down Kujo," he said breathlessly.

"Oh, that's just Humphrey. He's here to create the illusion of a guard dog. But he's really a big baby. Aren't you?" Cindy scratched under his chin and the nub of a tail began to wag. She pointed to the small settee and the dog hopped up. "I'll grab some plates, you make yourself at home."

Jimmy scanned the room they had entered. A coffee table covered in magazines sat between an overstuffed blue sofa and a large television. A sewing machine sat in the corner by a basket of folded cloth. The walls were sparsely decorated, save for one photo collage hung above the couch. He made his way over to look at the photos, all of which were of the blond lawyer and a dark-skinned woman with braids on a variety of poses. He sat on the couch as she walked in, carrying a tray full of food. She set it on the table and gracefully sat next to him.

"Alright Mr. Neutron, give me the full story."

Cindy watched as James slowly filled a plate with food, clearly stalling.

"I don't know why you're so interested. I don't have any exciting plot twists for you."

"I find that the plot twist is a device has become overused, resulting in it becoming a cheap tactic to provide drama. I'm far more interested in non-fiction." She tucked her feet under her legs, settling in for the tale.

James let out a sigh, "My parents knew that I was gifted from the time I was five. "

"Gifted how?"

He rolled his eyes, taking a bite out of his pork satay. "Intelligence-wise. When you get kicked out of kindergarten and your parents pay to take you to the psychologist, you get called 'gifted' rather than 'a trouble-maker'".

Cindy bit back a chuckle. It grew increasingly difficult to tell if he was joking or not.

"My dad was a used car salesman, but the town was so small it didn't really support us. My mom became a waitress when I was eleven in order to start saving for my college education. Unfortunately, it happened a lot sooner than they had planned."

"What do you mean?"

"I skipped a few grades and graduated high school three years early, and took out more loans than should be legal. It really took a toll on them, so I knew something had to be done. I started selling the blueprints of my designs to businesses to help, but ended up making a business out of it. That's how Neutrotech got started."

"Miraculously, I managed to find some investors to back the company, so I didn't have to starve. I managed to pay off most of the loans so my mom and dad could actually go back to living for themselves."

A shuddered expression crossed his face, "But I never forgot those early years. Customers treated her like garbage. Like, just because she worked for minimum wage she didn't deserve basic human decency." He looked up at her, "That's why I feel so awful about the way I acted this week."

Cindy tried to ease the tension, "Well if you do it again, I know to just call her."

Jimmy didn't crack a smile. "My dad started moonlighting as a janitor at the dealership. The work practically put him in the grave. As soon as the company made enough to pay off my school, I forced him to retire. If I had it my way, mom would be living in a mansion with servants tending to her every need. But she refuses to be idle, so we settled on her continuing work at the diner as the pastry chef." A warmth spread over his face, "She's always loved to bake. The house always smelled wonderful. I would go back to shopping exclusively at thrift stores and bargain marts if I could just wake up to the smell of her breakfasts each morning."

"Don't you visit?"

His wistfulness faded away, "I can never seem to get enough time to fly to Texas, and they refuse to let me buy them plane tickets." He cast her a sardonic smile, "I guess some problems you _can't_ just throw money at."

Cindy set her hand on top of his. With a small smile she said, "I'm supposed to be the one throwing your words back at you."

He smiled back, "I'll give you dibs next time."

Suddenly the front door swung open. "Cin, one or both of us needs to go grocery shopping. All I could find for lunch today was a banana and a bag of corn chips." A young woman with an armful of purses shuffled in before noticing the two seated on the couch. "Oh. Am I _interrupting_ something?" Her tone combined with a raised eyebrow implied she thought something amorous was going on. It took Jimmy a moment to realize that it was woman from the photos.

Cindy snatched her hand back, "Hello Libby. Can you be normal long enough to say hi to James?"

"James?" her confused look gave way to realization, "Oh, you must be Mr. Neutron. I've heard all about you. I'm kind of surprised to see you here actually. She didn't tie you up and drag you here, did she? Blink twice if you're being held against your will."

Jimmy chuckled, "No, I was invited," he stood and realized for once he was meeting someone who didn't expect him to shake her hand. He instead gestured to the room before sitting down again, "This is a lovely apartment you all have."

Libby nodded, obviously trying to suppress her smirk. "Thanks. What are you guys up to?"

Cindy held up a "Just eating dinner. What's with all the bags?"

Libby rolled her eyes, "Stewart wants the straps reinforced to make sure they don't fall apart. So guess who gets to spend all weekend sewing?"

Cindy must have noticed Jimmy's confusion, because she added, "Libby's a personal assistant for a fashion designer."

"Excuse me!" Libby shouted, throwing down the armful, "Stewart Tee is not simply a fashion _designer_ ; he is a fashion **innovator**!" She gave a dramatic flourish with her hand before falling back on the couch laughing.

He could tell they joked about this often. It almost felt like intruding on a private moment, but Libby looked over at him smiling.

She grabbed a carton, "So I had to lug all those out of my car and the stupid wind knocked half of them out of my stack."

Cindy sat up, "You didn't just leave them on the sidewalk?"

"Nah, Sheen's getting them."

Suddenly the door swung open again. A tall man with a purple scarf wrapped around his neck gamboled into the room. "I found the last one babe!" He held up a small gray bag. "Whose your friend Cin?"

Jimmy stood up again, "James Neutron, I'm-"

The Sheen guy jumped forward and grabbed him in an embrace, "What's up my man?"

"Um, stock prices?"

Sheen let out a shrill laugh, "That's great man."

Jimmy smiled awkwardly. He had grown accustomed to strictly formal greetings, so all this affection made him uncomfortable.

"Do I smell takeout being generously offered to me?" Sheen grabbed a carton off the table.

"Hey, plate please! There's enough for all of us."

Libby set up two folding chairs and the group circled around the coffee table, which was covered with cardboard container.

"So Sheen, what do you do for a living?"

The young man looked up from the plate of dumpling that he had been devouring. "Mmm, I'm a male model." He struck a Vogue-esque pose.

Jimmy chuckled, until he realized that no one else was taking it as a joke. "Oh. Seriously?"

Sheen laughed, spewing bits of meat everywhere. "Yeah, I moved in with my cousin in Branford to work at my uncle's garage. But the crazy thing happened: this agent guy came in to get his rear-view mirror replaced and he said I 'had excellent bone structure' and wham bam poof! Now I'm a model."

"Fascinating."

"Then my Libbycakes moved in here with Cindy, and I could kill two words with one throw.

Cindy face palmed.

"Um, I'm not sure that's how the expression goes."

"Whatever homie. So, you guys won't _believe_ what they had me do with an iguana today!"

* * *

Jimmy hadn't enjoyed himself more that evening than he had in ages. They laughed, they talked, and they relived humorous anecdotes of their working lives. It had been so long since he had actually spent time with people his own age. His only somewhat friend back home was the shy Carl, who was living with his parents until he finished college. And they only saw each other when Jimmy had time to video chat. Usually he spent his days in a boardroom with people twice his age, who all seemed waiting to pounce if he made a mistake, and his nights working long hours to pick up the slack.

No one here seemed to care what he did for a living or how many decimal places his salary was before taxes. They listened to his stories and opinions, and weren't afraid to disagree. The group talked about everything from favorite type of take-out to what was wrong with the current minimum wage, then ended up playing charades. He laughed until his sides hurt, even when the rambunctious Sheen was punching him in the arm while trying to guess "bird".

And then there was Cindy. Cindy, whose face displayed every emotion as she expressed every though and feeling that entered her mind. After a day of dealing with terrible customers and rich jerks like him, she clearly reveled in this safe haven. He was ever aware of the proximity of her warm body and sweet aroma as they sat mere inches away from each other on the couch. Her presence was intoxicating.

This had to stop **now**.

He might be the same age as the rest of this group, but he didn't have the freedom that their entry-level positions offered. He was a CEO for Pete's sake! With a company as large as Neutrotech there was no room for error. He couldn't do anything foolish like trust some advisor to oversee the acquisition of a copyright or… or let a pretty lawyer distract him.

He glanced at his watch and realized that it was almost eleven. At this rate he was going to be up until three finishing the environmental regulation paperwork.

Cindy must have sensed his sudden unease, because she made to get up. "Ok guys, I think we've harassed Neutron enough for today." The two others chuckled and Sheen leaped over the table to grab Jimmy's coat.

He shrugged it on and said his goodbyes, thanking them all for the pleasant evening.

"I'll walk you out," Cindy said.

He had been hoping to make a clean getaway so he could just slowly drift away from her, but that appeared to be impossible now.

"Ok," The left the cozy apartment and made for the dank elevator.

He hesitated a moment, but decided it was better to say it now rather than in a lobby full of people.

"So, tonight was-"

She interrupted his hesitant speech, "I'm sorry about all that. I know it wasn't the quiet dinner of interrogation you thought you were going to get."

"This was really fun. Dinner was wonderful and I liked meeting your friends…but-"

"I can personally promise that Sheen will never tackle hug you again," she raised a hand in oath.

"But we can't do this again."

She looked taken aback. "What?"

"Well, I am technically your employer right now. Once could be perceived as comradery between colleagues. But to do it again would be beyond inappropriate."

Cindy looked taken aback. "Um, since when does eating dinner with your peers constitute a breach of the company code of ethics. It's not like we had sex in the break room."

Jimmy could feel himself flush at her blunt response. He suddenly realized that the elevator had not only stopped, but was wide open to the ground floor. There weren't that many people in the lobby, but they were all staring at the din.

Cindy stalked to the front door and held it open, gesturing for him to follow.

They stood awkwardly on the deserted sidewalk. Cindy stood in a defensive position with her arms crossed. If looks could kill, Jimmy would be a pile of ashes right now.

"Alright, go ahead: explain how an innocent act like us having dinner will somehow get everyone fired."

"Well, that might not; fraternizing with employees does, and you all aren't exactly _my_ peers."

Cindy snorted, "Fraterniz- we just hung out!" Suddenly, all the mirth left her expression. "Wait, what do you mean we're not your peers? We're all the same age pretty much, just trying to make a living.

"Look, you might be able to stay up all night _hanging out_ with your friends, but I have hundreds of people depending on me to finish paperwork and manage their careers. I don't have the freedom to goof around that you all do."

He could instantly tell he had said the wrong thing.

"Oh yes, the _freedom_ that our shitty jobs bring. Libby has the freedom to be out of work the second a new clothing fad comes along. Sheen has the freedom to get evicted if his agent can't find him a shoot next week. And I have the _freedom_ to use my Ivy League law degree that won't pay for rent, food, and my student loans, so I get work a crappy food service job and be treated like garbage by people like you. Oh wait no, **_you_**."

"I know you probably thought-"

"I _thought_ I would give you a chance to explain you grade-A jackassery this week. I _thought_ maybe we could get to know each other a little better and possibly make work a fraction less awkward. I _thought_ maybe the stick up your butt was removable, but apparently it's permanently attached!"

A burst of wind sent a chill down his spine. Well, maybe not just the wind, but he saw Cindy shiver. He made to offer her his coat but she stepped back.

"Don't touch me! Just…just go. I'll see you at work on Monday, _Mr. Neutron._ Have fun in your glass house until then!" And with that she stalked off into the building.

* * *

Guess what loyal reader: I'm entering a fandom writing contest on Inkitt(.com)! Unfortunately, _Blackbelt Beauty Queen_ is to short, but if you love _What's Life Without a Little Drama_ you can vote for it at Inkitt(.com)/fandom (I can't post the site on here, so remove the parentheses) or search for me (it's still TwoDaysTooLate). Voting ends October 21st, so thank you all in advance!


	4. Chapter 4

**Contrary to popular belief, I did not intend to leave this story on a cliff-hanger. I don't know why it's taken me so long to finish this, but when inspiration strikes... it takes an entire day to write this whole chapter (I scrapped** ** _all_** **the work I've done since the last update, it just wasn't working). I did have time to make a cover art for the story, which you might have notices. The full work can be found on my DeviantArt profile, because I'm an old fogey. (Side note: episodes of Jimmy Neutron are on Hulu Plus now! They have a week free trial if you don't want to pay for an account. Let the squeeing commence!) Enjoy!  
**

* * *

Cindy stormed passed the couch where Sheen and Libby were absorbed in whatever terrible sitcom was playing on the TV. A quick getaway was the only chance she had at avoiding confrontation from the obnoxious power couple. She could hear them stirring as she entered her small room, but ignored any attempt at conversation.

She had struggled to tame her temper for years. When she was young, an outburst could be considered amusing. As she got older, people became less tolerant with such behavior. The only way she could survive law school was to learn to think before she spoke and bite her tongue accordingly. Over time, her hot-blooded nature cooled slightly. Her tongue still ached though.

Even slamming the door didn't make her feel better though. Acts of trivial violence had been her bread and butter for letting the anger out when she was younger, but it had been a long time since her temper had last gotten the better of her like this. She wasn't a volatile sixteen year old anymore; she needed to let it go. But she just couldn't.

She took off her clothes and threw them as hard as possible into the hamper before donning the oversized t-shirt and yoga pants she wore as pajamas. But the usual instant comfort didn't come. Flinging herself onto the bed didn't help either.

She curled up in a cocoon of blankets, saying to hell with her nightly skincare routine. Curling up with Humphrey in the crook of her knees, sleep came in fits and starts.

When the alarm clock sounded, she ignored it for once.

Several hours later, she was jolted awake by a knock at her door. "Cin? Are you alive?"

"Go away."

Libby entered the room and plopped down on the bed next to her. "Are you alright girl? The last time you slept in this late it was because of a stomach bug. You didn't get food poisoning or anything, right?"

"I have the day off. People sleep in." Cindy covered her face with a pillow.

"Uh, not you. You're always up at ungodly hours doing tai chi in the living room or alphabetizing your sock drawer or something." Libby grabbed the pillow and tossed it aside. "Is this about something that happened last night?"

Apparently the look on Cindy's face was all it took for her best friend to put the pieces together. "Oh my god! Did that rich creep do something? I will shatter his kneecaps; where's my aluminum bat?"

Cindy picked at a nonexistent thread, "As much as I would like to see that, it's kind of complicated."

"Nothing's complicated unless you make that way."

"Oh yeah? What would you call my kind-of client telling me he 's too good to be friends with me?"

"He said _what?"_

Cindy quickly recapped everything that had transpired on the street front.

Libby let out a deep sigh. "You managed to have a huge fight in the three minutes it took to walk outside? That must be a personal best."

Cindy supposed that _technically_ she _may_ have slightly overreacted… but no one could fault her irritation.

"This was not my fault! I try to be friendly and Mr. Big Shot has to misinterpret everything and make a big deal out of dinner."

"Ok, last night was a _lot_ more than dinner. "

Cindy felt her face flush. "Well I didn't intend to be more than dinner! All I wanted was-" she quelled the surge of frustration, "All I wanted was a bit of petty revenge. The guy spent all week making my time at work miserable, and I saw a change to return the favor. I got fortunate and made him squirm during a meeting. I never could have planned on… all this."

Libby put her hand on her friend's shoulder, "Well, you've got _all this,_ babe. Do you really want to be friends with someone like that?"

Cindy didn't respond. She certainly didn't want to be friends with the stuck-up cretin who assumed he time was infinitely more important than hers, who thought his life meant more just because he owned his own company and could buy and sell hers. But she _had_ wanted to get to know the awkward nerd from Texas who cared about his parents, respected her business acumen, and was willing to spend an evening listening to Sheen's bad jokes just to spend tie with her. But she was starting to think that that man was just a fabrication of her mind. A desperate hope that there was maybe one less jerk in the world.

She just shrugged.

Libby didn't push the matter. "Well, try not to dwell on it for now. C'mon and get up. I would have made you breakfast, but there _is_ the issue of our pantry containing only bread flour and dog kibble."

"I'll get dressed and head to the market. Don't you have purses to sew?"

Libby muttered something obscene and left the room. Cindy slowly rose from the blanket nest and grabbed something resembling an outfit from the dresser before heading to the bathroom. She was _not_ sorry for what had said last night. It was his own fault for… letting her get carried away with their actions.

Her only error was mistakenly thinking for a moment that they could be friends.

* * *

They weren't friends. Jimmy kept forgetting that the woman he had met less than a week ago was not a lifelong friend who knew all the intricacies of his life. She was practically a stranger… who knew all the intricacies of his life. Sure, she was fun to be around, and could be nice when she wasn't plotting his total destruction, and she made him feel…lighter. Like he didn't have a million piled up responsibilities waiting to crumble around him.

But right now, all he felt was shame and distraction; the two things he had been avoiding by breaking off whatever that was. He eventually gave up trying to work and crawled into bed at two am. Sleep didn't come easy, so when the alarm sounded at it's usual six, he absentmindedly hit snooze. When he did eventually rouse at ten, the realization that he had forgotten to call his mother the previous day hit him like a semi truck. He always called home on the first and third Friday evening of the month (it wasn't like he ever had plans), but the revelry and subsequent disaster had distracted him. He grabbed his phone and hit the speed dial while pushing back covers.

His mother's overly perky greeting made him wish he had brewed a pot of coffee first. "Hello sweetie! It's wonderful to hear from you."

The sincerity in her voice made him cringe with guilt. "Hi mom. Sorry I didn't call last night-"

"Oh, it's alright dear. I know how busy you must be with the contracts and all."

He hesitated for a moment before saying, " Actually, I went out with some, er, colleagues last night."

"Well how wonderful! I always thought a boy your age needs to spend time with friends."

Jimmy rolled his eyes, grateful that she couldn't see him. "Yes, well, how are things at the diner?"

She went on about pie spices and how his dad had taken up wood carving, so now the house had become overrun with wooden duck decoys. He told her about the various regulations he had to work around and how there was a mountain of paperwork on his desk at all times.  
Then, for reasons we wasn't quite sure about, he asked, "Mom, would you guys like to come up for the holidays?"

"What?"

"Well, it's just that I haven't seen you all in a while and I think you'd really like to see the fall foliage and my office."

"I like the level of priority there dear, but I'll have to check into our finances and-"

"Mom, you know I can have you flown out here."

Her voice grew stern, "James Isaac Neutron, we've talked about this. I don't want you spending unnecessary money on us. We can manage."

He groaned at her stubbornness. "Mom, it's not a big deal. Why do you always butt heads with me on this matter?"

She paused for a moment. "The parents are supposed to take care of the child. Not vice versa. You've already spent more money on me than I'm comfortable with."

"Mom, please just let me do this for you. Money is no big deal for me; I might as well spend it on my family! I wouldn't have it if you guys hadn't worked so hard to put me through school. I really want to see you."

That gave her pause. "W-well, I suppose I could speak with your father about the matter. But I won't have you pay for our lodgings!"

He rolled his eyes again, "Mom, you can just stay here at my apartment. There _are_ two extra bedrooms that I'm not using. Maybe you could help me decorate the place? It is a little bare." That last part was an outright lie. He had purchased the floor three years ago and had yet to furnish anything completely except his workshop. Even the bedroom lacked more than a bed, chest of drawers, and desk. If anyone asked, he would just tell them it was a minimalist aesthetic, but no one had been in his apartment save for the housekeeper. And Elke wasn't much for conversation.

"Well… I would like to see this company that keeps you so busy."

He hesitated, "Of course it keeps me busy, it's a start-up. It takes time for a corporation to really take off. You know what it's like owning a business."

That made her scoff, "Jimmy that diner hardly counts. You have people running every aspect of it for me! I'm basically just an over-paid greeter who sprinkles sugar on top of the deserts."

"I just want you and dad to be happy in your retirement."

"Retirement! We're barely fifty! We didn't need to retire."

"You were working too hard! It was all too much," he was trying hard not to yell into the receiver.

"That wasn't your decision to make!" She composed herself, "Son, we know how much you care for us, but what you really want is to be able to control everything."

"That's… ridiculous," he lied.

"You bought me a business so you could control what I do each day; you started your own business immediately after school so you could be your own boss; and now that you have money to back your endeavors, you're trying to control everything else."

The accuracy of the statement stung.

She continued, "The work was tough, but it was worth it because we know it was going to give you a bright future. Granted, your father didn't like scrubbing the cars of at the dealership, but he liked selling them. He's bored out of his mind now, and driving me crazy. And as much as I appreciate you hiring me a maid, it makes me terribly uncomfortable."

"I just wanted to make sure you had time to enjoy yourselves."

"And what about you? Are you enjoying yourself?" She countered.

"I enjoy my work very much. We're making great strides in the field of new tech-"

"Jimmy, you know that's not what I meant. I'm eternally grateful that you have such a good work ethic, but it's become an obsession. I feel like you use your job as an excuse to avoid reality."

He wasn't expecting this from his mother. The audacity of her suggestion that he used his very important position to avoid unnecessary things was ridiculous. Who did she think she-oh no. For the second time in twenty-four hours, Jimmy realized what a terrible mistake he had made.

"You know mom, you might be right."

"I-what?"

""It's possible that maybe this one time I was wrong about something."

She burst out laughing, "James Isaac Neutron, I don't think you've admitted to being wrong since you were four years old. What's made you so receptive to criticism all of a sudden?"

"Let's just say I've been receiving a lot of it lately."

"Not at work?"

"No, in a more… let's say personal setting."

"Oh? One of these _colleagues_ you've yet to tell me about?"

He was not about to fall for her innocent tone. "How about you talk to dad, and get back with me on flight dates. Maybe see if Carl would like to come. I'm sure he'd like to get out of the house."

"Alright sweetie. Have a good day. I'll talk to you soon." And with that she hung up.

As much as it pained him to admit, his mother was correct. His business _did_ require much of his free time, but not all of it. And he was fortunate enough to be well compensated for his struggle. There were plenty of people whose lives comprised of hard work and still struggled to get by. Like his parents…and his friends. Well, potential friends. He might have shot himself in the foot there. Which was a shame, because he did like the group. Especially a certain blond member, who was most likely plotting his demise at this moment.

Was becoming friends with her a good idea? Probably not, but neither was trying to create a company at age twenty, and he had been successful with that. Still, he got the feeling that getting Cindy Vortex to forgive him was going to be a whole lot more difficult.

* * *

"You know Cindy, if you're really this desperate for cash, I _could_ hire you to babysit this weekend." Maria waved as the blond entered the stockroom.

Cindy did not match her friend's joking tone, "I'm just going to work here through the holidays. I've already put in my notice."

It had been three weeks since the incident with Jimmy- no, Neutron, and it had been just as awkward as anyone could have predicted. Her work with the company had mercifully finished a few days ago. They had managed to create the façade of professionalism whenever they had to speak, but now she was free from his looming presence. She's had practice working with unpleasant co-workers before, but this was a new kind of torture. The worst part was that she kept imagining that he lingered in the boardroom, as if debating whether or not to say something to her. But that was probably just in her mind, along with any camaraderie they had shared. But now she could resume normal life, and after the New Year she wouldn't have to pour coffee for rich jerks ever again.

Maria seemed to sense the agitation, and responded, "Well, I will miss you. Be sure to stop in anytime you want and restock the whipping cream."

Cindy laughed despite herself. She hauled the crate into her arms and headed for the door. She was just contemplating how nice it would be to not have work start at five am, when an unwelcome face greeted her at the counter.

 _No_. it couldn't be.

Customer service training be damned, she marched over and with a deadpan expression, resisted the urge to say, "Welcome to Moonbeams coffee. What the hell do you want?"

James gave an awkward wince as she slammed the box down.

"How may I help you today, _sir_?"

"Uh, how about a pumpkin latte with extra whipped cream?"

His sheepish grin was met with a glare. He handed her a ten-dollar bill, and put the change in the tip jar as she set about steaming milk. The chill in the room was far colder than the brisk fall weather outside.

He waited for her to hand him the cup, but she set it on the counter and walked away. He noticed the absence of her scrawled writing. He was almost disappointed to see she had not abused his name in another clever fashion.

"So, is this mine?"

She didn't turn around, "Do you see anyone else here?" It was the sweet spot in between commute rushes, and he had planned the visit accordingly.

"Well I wasn't sure, since my name's not on it."

She was at the counter in two steps, with venom in her eyes. "You're really going to do this? What are you, eleven?"

"I'll have you know, at age eleven I was far more mature than you're acting now."

She was just about to let him have it, when another female employee ran into the room with a panicked air.

"Cindy! Didn't your break just start? Why don't you go outside and enjoy some fresh air?"

The enraged blond stormed out of the building, not bothering to put on a coat. The other woman took her place behind the counter. "Do you need anything else, sir?"

"Yes," and he followed out the door.

* * *

He didn't have to go far to find the shivering blond. She scowled when he approached. "It's not enough for you to make me miserable at my _real_ job, now you feel the need to come here? What the hell do you want from me?"

"I just want to talk to you."

"You haven't spoken to me about anything other than work for three weeks. You have my business card. You have my email address. What made you think it was appropriate to come here?"

He shrugged, "In hindsight, it was not my best plan, but I just sort of assumed you wouldn't respond if I attempted anything other than face-to-face communication." At her silence he continued, "I'm right, aren't I?"

She glared back with a bitter smile, "Oh course Mr. Neutron, because you know what's best for everybody." Her tone became sharper, "Did you really come here to prove your superiority once again?"

"No, I came here to apologize," he hesitated, "But… but I'm not doing a great job of it, am I?"

The silence stretched between them.

"You could say that again," Cindy crossed her arms, but he could see a faint smile forming at the corners of her mouth. A bitter wind cut through them. He removed his outer jacket and offered it to her. She hesitated for a minute before accepting it.

He sighed, unsure how to go about all of this, "It has come to my attention that I maybe, sometimes, possibly use my work as a way of avoiding uncomfortable situations."

She stared at him for a moment, as if to judge his intent. "Yeah, well, I suppose I maybe, sometimes, possibly don't react well in certain situations."

"Well, I don't know about _that_ ," she glared at his grin, "but I definitely didn't make it easy for you to be civil."

"I know it's not easy being the head of a major company, Neutron. But I don't like being reminded that your life is more valuable than mine."

"I realize that. My intention wasn't to make you feel lesser than me."

"Intent really doesn't matter when the result causes damage."

He smiled, "That was pretty good, can I use that in my autobiography?" She didn't laugh. "Because I'll certainly have an entire chapter devoted to the evening we spent together. I don't think I've ever enjoyed myself as much as I did then. It was the first time I ever really felt accepted."

She gave a smirk. "What, the millionaires club's not accepting application?"

"Cindy look, I'm not great at making friends. I've spent the majority of my life being surrounded by people that hate me because of my age and precociousness. It's hard to realize when people genuinely like me."

"And what makes you think I like you?"

"You wouldn't still be here listening to me if you didn't."

She raised an eyebrow, "Forget your autobiography, save that one for a rom-com script."

"I told you I wasn't good at this."

This time, the smile she gave was genuine, "Being sincere is a start. It's a nice change of pace from the people I deal with at work."

"What, the defendants?"

"No, all the liars who claim to like black coffee."

They both laughed.

She handed his coat back. "So, now what?"

"I don't know," he smiled, "I get off work at seven. What happens next is up to you."

* * *

 **FIN**


End file.
